Wild Fire
by charloefanatic93
Summary: When Charlie is forced to kill Jason, she feels remorse clawing at her. Who will help her recover from her pain? This is a Charloe fanfic. Also, I am really bad at summaries, so I am sorry! Rated M for language (have to be on the safe side). Reviews are appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

The dull aching spread like wild fire, starting at her chest and making its way through her entire being. Tears spilled as she looked at the face before her, Jason's face. The situation had called for her to pull the trigger, it required her to. If she hadn't, then she herself would have been the lifeless body on the floor. She shook her head, trying to come to her senses - she had to get out of there. She rose from off the ground, blinking tears from her eyes. With one last fleeting glance, Charlie walked away from Jason and fled the building.

With a hand on the sheath of her sword, Charlie made her way through the chaos of people scrambling to find safety. She looked left and right seeking out a familiar face. When she finally found it, she herself scrambled to reach him. "Miles," she started trying to find the words to explain to her uncle about what happened. With one look at his eyes she knew that he didn't need an explanation at that moment. Instead, they themselves had to find safety from the rangers who were searching for the murderer of one of their precious Texas cadets.

Together they moved, weaving in and out, trying to remain as invisible as possible. They only stopped moving when they finally reached the rendezvous spot previously agreed upon. Miles looked at his niece who was covered in blood. When he first saw the blood, he was terrified that it had been Charlie's. But after seeing remorse on her face and not pain, he made the decision that they needed to get to safety first before asking her what had happened. Now that they were finally safe; however, Miles knew that he needed to know what went on when they had separated, looking for the Patriot cadet who was assigned to carry out the assassination and boy did that come back to bite him in the ass. So with a heavy sigh, he began, "Kid, you know I've gotta ask. What happened?"

"What happened?" This question kept rolling in Charlie's mind as she searched for the words that would answer it. She took a deep breath in and willed her voice to sound calm and steady. "Jason," she started with a sigh, "he was activated. I had followed him and what it comes down to is that one of us wasn't going to come out alive and I won." The words sounded cold in her ears, but it was the simplest way of explaining the matter without breaking down. She no longer loved Jason, hell, she wasn't even sure if she ever really did. But he was, at one point, one of the only people that she could rely on. He wasn't as trustworthy as Miles or Nora, but she could depend on him and because of that, she grew infatuated with the boy. Looking back, she regretted taking the people she loved and cared about for granted, she missed that now, a lot.

Miles agreed with her and left it at that. He looked at her sympathetically, but knew that what she did was hard and that it would take time for her to recover from that. He pushed up against the wall that he was leaning against and carefully looked around for any sign of Bass and Connor. He knew that with or without them, he and Charlie would need to move soon. Miles looked back at niece to briefly check on her before turning back and spotted the two skulking along the adjacent buildings. Miles released a breath that he didn't know he was holding when the two finally reached them. He let his gaze drift over the two of them quickly to make sure they weren't injured. Satisfied, Miles turned to Bass, "What the hell took you two so long?"

Bass rolled his eyes at Miles' question and simply shrugged his shoulders deciding that the question didn't deserve an answer. He knew all too well that Miles could have guessed what took them so long, especially considering that it was Bass who pulled the trigger that killed the Patriot cadet. He looked to his son who had slid past Miles and walked to a figure lurking in the shadows that he assumed was Charlie.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Connor asked Charlie.

"None of your concern" she bit out, resisting the urge to punch him.

"Can I not be worried about you?"

"You weren't worried, you were being annoyingly nosy." Charlie replied bitterly.

"What crawled up your ass?"

"Monroe, I suggest you do something with your son before I kill him." She darkly thought that it wouldn't be the first time that she killed someone that she knew today.

Bass looked over at his son after hearing Charlie address him. He studied Connor and saw that he looked torn between being terrified and pissed off and briefly wondered how it was that his son could be scared. Did he not have the blood of Monroe coursing through his veins? It wasn't until Monroe looked over at Charlie that he realized why Connor would look terrified. Charlie was not joking when she said that she would kill Connor, if looks could kill he would be dead already. He shot Miles a questioning glare before walking over and taking Connor away from Charlie.

The four had started back north hoping to reach Rachel, Gene, and the survivors of the war clan within three days' time. As the dark had settled around them and the moon had risen, they decided that it was past time to make camp. The four had spread out around the fire that Connor had made and got lost in their thoughts. Bass had noticed earlier the blood that had covered Charlie, but didn't mention anything about it. He also noticed how one of their group was missing. He had put two and two together, but thought it best not mention anything at the time. Now though, with both Charlie and Connor asleep in their bedrolls, Bass had made his way to sit beside Miles and finally voice his suspicions. "So, Jason, he's gone?" Miles just simply nodded his head, after all, it wasn't like it was a big secret – the kid wasn't there with them. Bass sighed and continued, "Charlie, she was the one?" Miles glanced at his sleeping niece and then back to the fire. With a sigh, Miles nodded once again.

Bass nodded in understanding and he too stole a glance at the sleeping Matheson. He knew too well what she was feeling and only hoped that for her sake, she wouldn't dwell too much and move on. While she needs to mourn his death, dwelling too much on this kind of situation will tear her up inside. He knew Charlie enough to know that her life must have been in danger for to kill Neville's son. He must have been activated and even Jason had told them that if that was to happen, that they needed to kill him. He hoped that Charlie wouldn't blame herself for too long, this was not her fault.


	2. Chapter 2

"About time you all returned. I've been worried and –" Rachel stopped her rant taking notice of Charlie's worn out state, noting that something seemed off. Rachel glanced from each member that had returned and found that one was missing. She quietly suggested that they clean up before she pulled Miles to the side. "Miles, where's Jason? What's going on?" Rachel prodded.

Miles let his eyes rake over Rachel, taking her all in. His eyes travelled from the top of her head to her toes and right back up again. She had her blonde hair pulled back with a few strands falling in her face. He reached out a hand and gently tucked a strand back behind her ear. He then let out a reluctant sigh before telling her the events that took place while they were in Austin. When finished, he looked at her waiting for her to respond. "I can't believe this," she started. "She killed Jason? Is this the type of person that she has become?"

Miles stood in disbelief. "Rachel, it's not like she had a choice. It was either kill or be killed. Would you have rather it been your daughter?"

"Of course not, but she loved him and she killed him."

"He was activated, brainwashed. He was going to kill her. What else was she supposed to do?"

"I don't know, find some other way? Run? Not kill him? She knew him, Miles, and she still killed him. She's turning into Monroe." Rachel tried to reason with Miles, almost begging him to see why she was so distraught over this. Could Charlie really do nothing else? There had to of been another option to get away in that situation. She had watched her daughter become cold and distant, become like her. That was already bad enough, was she to sit by and watch her daughter become like Monroe too? No, she wouldn't stand for it.

"As far I know Rachel, no she did not have any other choice. And you cannot take this situation and compare her to Monroe." Miles could not believe he was hearing this.

"I just refuse to let my daughter become any sort of semblance to that monster. And I just don't know why she didn't run, or try to do something else."

Charlie had put down her belongings in her tent and had set off looking for her men when she saw her mother and uncle having a very heated conversation. A bit curious, Charlie slowly walked towards the fire pit that was only a few steps over from where they were standing. Crouching down, Charlie absentmindedly through pieces of grass into the fire as she strained her ears listening to find the arguing pair's voices. When she was finally able to hear their conversation, Charlie felt rage start boiling inside of her. She listened until she couldn't take anymore. If they were going to talk about her, they were going to do so with here present. She was not, under any circumstances, going to be judged by the woman who played a huge role in turning the lights out.

Standing up, Charlie walked over to the couple and took pleasure in the shock that presented itself on her mother's face. "First, I am not becoming like Monroe. I don't kill for the pleasure of it and I do have feelings, although they are kept in check. Second, I did not want to kill Jason. There was no other way that I could have gotten out alive in that situation. I even plunged a knife into his leg and he still came after me." She took a breath before continuing, feeling tear starting to pool in her eyes. Furiously batting them away, Charlie took a calming breath and began again. "And finally, if you have anything else that you want to say about me, do so while I am here. I do not need to be judged by anybody here, especially you mom. Thank you." And with that, Charlie turned on her heel and left, leaving behind a stunned mother and an annoyed, but a bit proud uncle.

Leaving them and disregarding her previous task of finding her men, Charlie made her way to the stream that was about a mile away from the camp. When she finally arrived at her destination, Charlie bent down and scooped some water into her canteen and splashed some on her face. She stood and walked a bit to a tree before sitting down and trying to relax. Charlie had finally calmed down a bit and started to lose herself in her thoughts. She understood why her mom was concerned about her "turning into Monroe." Even she herself had to admit that here lately there were more similarities than differences, but she didn't understand why her mom didn't want to believe that there was nothing else that she could do. They had all seen firsthand what a brainwashed Patriot cadet could do. So why couldn't her mom not understand her actions? Why did Charlie have to defend herself from her own mother? She supposed that she shouldn't have been shocked; it was Rachel after all, but she couldn't help to feel disappointed and a bit hurt. Charlie already had so much that she was dealing with and she didn't need this too. She had her men to worry about (she had developed a good relationship with them and cared for their well-being), the war against the Patriots, Connor (she was starting to regret that one night stand), Miles treating her like a kid and their loss of communication (really, their loss of everything), the obvious relationship between Miles and her mother, the demons surrounding her brother and that she couldn't protect him, all of the people she had lost, Jason, Monroe.

Her thoughts had lingered over the last two. With Jason, she always saw his face in the last moments. She saw the blood and could feel him turning cold. She wished that there had been another way, a way that would have kept them both. With her thoughts becoming rapidly depressing, Charlie moved topics, hoping that the tears would go away. So, her thoughts went to Monroe. She had found herself thinking more and more about him, even before Austin. She had the usual thoughts about him being the reason for the deaths of her father and brother and so many others. But lately, that wasn't the only light that she saw him in. The banter that would bounce between the two would resurface in her mind. Images of him when she saw him in the ring…shirtless…arose. She could see the sweat trickling down his neck as he swung his fist at his opponent. She could see the contours of his back when he would…no. This had to stop. She had to stop thinking of Monroe in this way. He was the murderer of half of her family; he was a disgusting, vile monster who she should never think of as a friend much less in a sexual way.

Suddenly, Charlie heard the snapping of a twig breaking her thoughts and putting her on guard. She quickly stood and drew her sword, turning to the source of sound. There before her stood Tom Neville who had one question on his lips, "Where is my son?"


	3. Chapter 3

Tom Neville stood before Charlie with one question on his lips, "Where is my son?"

Tom Neville never liked the Matheson girl. She had quickly become a distraction to his son and caused Jason to become loyal to her instead of Tom. While to others - and to his son - it may seem as though Tom cared more for Julia, his wife, and work and less for his son, Tom knew that that wasn't entirely true. He cared for his son and wanted for him to become stronger. Tom saw a lot of his old self in Jason, he saw a coward. So Tom pushed Jason expecting him to not lay down for others. He expected Jason to become what Tom now was: a man who knew how to survive. It is true that over the years, Tom grew to care more about his wife and work, but that's why he gave the excuse that it was because he expected more of Jason that he became cold towards his son. Even still, Jason was his son, so he cared for the boy.

So when Jason declared that he was going to give up on his mother and stop helping his dad, well to say that Tom was pissed was an understatement. His blood still boils at the mere thought of his son abandoning his mother and for claiming that she was already dead. Deep in the crevices of Tom's mind, he knew that his son was right. But Tom ignored this thought and buried it deep inside of him, never wanting to think of it again. He did not want to deal with the pain of her being dead for a second time. He did not believe that he could deal with her death for a second time; in fact he knew that he couldn't.

So, Tom had kept an eye on Jason after he left knowing that if he was to complete this mission and kill Monroe for his wife's life he would need the help of his son. He watched as Jason took Monroe's son as hostage and marched into their camp. He saw him negotiate, almost begging them to give him a chance to help them. Tom had let a chuckle escape his lips at this. He found it ironic, but not surprising, that his son had the same knack of switching sides whenever it was convenient for him. He still continued to watch as Jason was giving them what he assumed to be information. When Jason left for Austin with the others, Tom watched them head south with the assumption that they would return. In the meantime, Tom was going to come up with a plan that would ensure that his son would come back to him.

But when he saw them return, he searched the faces looking for his son. He did not find him which caused Tom to become panicky. He came up with a million possibilities of what could have happened to him, but didn't find satisfaction in any of them. So when he saw the Matheson girl leave the camp, he followed her determined to get the answers that he needed. He watched her as she filled her canteen with water and splashed her face. His eyes followed her to the tree where she rested. He studied her, looking for something – he didn't know what.

He finally had enough of watching so he came out of his hiding spot and slowly approached her. He had stepped on a twig, snapping it in two, and saw Charlie rush to find the source of the sound and to grab her sword to defend herself. When the two made contact, he asked the one question that has been conquering his mind since he saw them return, "Where is my son?" He watched as a range of emotions went through her face: fear, acknowledgement, sadness. He got impatient when she didn't answer him. "Maybe you didn't hear me. Where. Is. My. Son?" He watched as Charlie sighed and put her sword back in its sheath.

"I killed him." Charlie didn't know how she wanted to answer his question. After debating and after Neville's persistence, Charlie figured that the best way was for her to tell him as though she was ripping off a Band-Aid. So, that's what she did.

Tom stared at the girl, letting her words soak through his being. He felt an ache in his chest and recognized it to be pain. His brow furrowed and he continued to stare down the girl who just admitted to killing his son. A maddened smirk graced his lips as he pulled out his pistol and pointed it at her. "You have exactly one minute to explain what happened before I pull the trigger."

With no time to waste, Charlie spewed out what happened. "I saw him go into a building and followed him. He was activated. He tried to kill me; I stabbed him in the leg praying that he would snap out of it. He didn't, so I killed him." After her rushed speech, Charlie let out a shaky breath and let her eyes look into his so that she could maybe try and decipher what he was thinking. She could not tell what was going on through Tom Neville's head. However, she did know when she heard the sound of his pistol click. Other than her sword, she was defenseless so she closed her eyes, accepting the situation for what it was and waited for her impending death. Behind closed eyes, faces appeared. Charlie remembered her life before the Blackout; she remembered her mom, dad, and Danny. She remembered running during the beginning and when her mom left. She remembered making her promise to keep Danny safe. She remembered the old Ferris wheel and her postcards. She remembered Maggie and her father. Her father's death and Danny's capture. She remembered her promise to find Danny and Maggie and Aaron's promise to help. She remembered Maggie's love and her stupidity for taking that for granted. She remembered meeting Miles and Maggie's death. She remembered meeting Nate and Nora, finding Danny and meeting Monroe and reuniting with her mother. She remembered Danny's death and her guilt. She remembered the tower, Nora's death, her bitterness towards her mother, Willoughby, tracking Monroe, the Patriots, her grandfather, New Vegas, everything. She remembered everything while waiting to die.

But death did not come to her. She slowly opened her eyes to see Neville pointing his pistol at her and Sebastian Monroe standing with a rifle to Neville's head.


	4. Chapter 4

When they had arrived back at the campsite, Bass had walked off in search of Scanlon. Bass had wanted to get an update on what had been happening since they had left and discuss what course of action they should take from there. He was determined to take down those sons of bitches and to bring the Republic back to life with Connor by his side. Connor had brought new meaning to his life, he had saved his life. And because of this, Bass wanted to leave Connor something that he could be proud of, something that was his. Bass wasn't in his life, hell Bass didn't even know about the kid until recently, and he wanted nothing more than to give his son something that he could live for, something that was in his name. It was the least he could do, it was the only thing that he could do for Connor since he hasn't been able to do anything else. He needed to do this, he needed to show Connor that he may not make the world's greatest dad, but he still cared for Connor and wanted to show him this by giving his son the chance to have power.

Bass had finished talking with Scanlon when he looked over to find Charlie sneaking around the fire pit. He watched her as she had crouched down and grabbed the grass in front of her to pick and throw into the fire. He looked from Charlie to Miles and Rachel who stood a few feet away from the fire. They seemed to have been arguing and hadn't noticed Charlie. He looked back at Charlie and studied her. She really was a beautiful girl, no, a beautiful woman. Gone was the naïve girl who wanted to rescue her brother and live happily ever after and in her place a woman whose skills in combat had grown immensely and who no longer looked at the world in a hope of peace. Bass let his eyes roam her figure. Her long blonde hair had fallen loosely down her back and ended just before it could reach her lower back which was in sight since the tank top that she was wearing had risen up slightly. Bass quietly swallowed, gave a sigh of frustration, and lightly shook his head. What the hell was he doing? He shouldn't be thinking of Charlie that way for several reasons. The first being that she was half his junior. It's not as if Bass hadn't laid with a woman much younger than he, but this was Charlie. He remembered the day she was born, so this was different – much different. The second reason was Connor. He had found the pair laying in the dirt a little outside of New Vegas naked as the day they were born. It left little to the imagination and even after Bass had told Connor not to settle for Charlie, he could still tell that the boy had grown quite fond of the blonde haired beauty. The last reason was Miles. Miles had always been there for Bass even in the most difficult times of his life when he thought that he could no longer breathe and be happy. Miles was Charlie's uncle, he didn't want to let himself break apart a relationship that was slowly healing. He wanted his brother back and he did not want to give Miles another reason to hate him.

His thoughts were broken when saw Charlie abruptly stand and make her way towards Miles and Rachel. He watched as shock spread across the couple's face when she had appeared in front of them. Charlie looked fierce, angry, and Bass assumed that the argument the Miles and Rachel was probably about her. More specifically about what had happened with Jason in Austin, if he had to guess. He watched as Charlie angrily turned on her heel and headed in the direction of where the stream had laid. He sighed and made a mental note to give her a few minutes to calm down before he would follow her so he could talk to her. Bass figured that he was probably the last the person that she wanted to talk to, but for some reason he felt as though he needed to.

After ten minutes had passed, Bass sighed and moved to grab his rifle. He walked over to Miles to inform him that he was going to go hunt for game. Bass headed off in the direction that Charlie had went. When had reached the forestry, he began tracking her. It wasn't until Bass saw another pair of feet that he became alarmed. Raising his rifle, Bass quickly continued to follow her tracks. He stopped when he saw her standing and noticed that she was speaking to a figure who had a pistol pointed at her. With a scowl on his face, Bass made his way to the other person. He raised his rifle to other's head and was ready to blow his head off right then and there. Neville. Tom Neville. The bastard stood there still with his pistol raised. Bass looked towards Charlie whose eyes were closed. He watched her as she slowly opened her eyes and take in the situation. She then looked into his eyes and silently pleaded him not to shoot Neville. Bass became aggravated. This was his chance to shoot the bastard and finally get rid of him. Neville had always been a pain in the ass when he had worked for Monroe, but he then became a bigger pain in the ass after he had betrayed Monroe. Bass wanted to shoot him and be rid of him, but he didn't. Begrudgingly he spoke, "Drop the gun Neville." He watched as Neville slowly placed the gun on the forest floor and rose back up with his hands in the air. "Now, if I were you I would leave. Personally, I would shoot you, but it doesn't look as though Charlie wants that." Bass had shoved his rifle into Neville's back and pushed him to side.

"Since when did you take orders from a bitch?" Neville spat out, venom lacing his voice.

"If you want me to kill you, then I certainly will. Otherwise, if you want to live, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and leave." Bass spat back with just as much venom.

Neville considered his options. He needed to live, he needed to get Julia back and get revenge for his son. He nodded his head and slowly started to back off, he then turned and disappeared from their sight, leaving to hide and come up with a plan.

Bass lowered his rifle and looked to Charlie, waiting for an explanation. Charlie just quietly sat down against the tree. "Care to explain why you didn't want me to shoot the bastard?" Curiosity got the best of him and he caved to its powers.

Charlie stared at the flowing stream for a minute before giving her reply. "He is a bastard who I would love to see dead, but I just told him about his son. I don't believe that he should be killed just by going off his natural instincts of wanting his son's murderer dead. Think about it, how would you feel if you were told that your son was killed by the killed? You would probably want to shoot them and then some, am I right?"

Bass gave this some thought and realized that she was right. But the answer didn't set well with him. "So you were just going to stand there and let him kill you?"

"I was defenseless and I killed his son, it's not when I would have wanted to die, but it was for the right reasons."

"Since when was dying right?"

"I killed Jason, Monroe. I killed a man whose face I knew. I killed a man who I had cared for who wasn't himself who shouldn't have died."

"You had no other choice, he was going to kill you. He even said that if he was to be activated that we should kill him."

"Do you think I don't know that? I do, I know that what I did was out of defense. I know that I was just doing what he asked for, but that doesn't make it right."

"Right? Do you hear yourself? You're starting to sound like Rachel. Are you going to sign up for her crusade now too and boycott killing the cadets?"

Charlie froze, she was at a loss for words. Is that what she wanted? No, she didn't think so. But she felt as though she would be a hypocrite if she said that. Were the other cadets not a person that somebody else knew and cared for? She shook her head and answered his question. "I don't know what I want, Bass. I just feel awful, disgusting even for killing someone, someone I knew." She sighed and wiped away a tear that she had not given permission to fall.

Bass was stunned, not at what she was saying, but at the name she said. Bass. It had sound right on her tongue, he liked it. He watched as she wiped away a tear that had fallen on her cheek and looked into her eyes which held unshed tears. He sighed, this wasn't a time to be thinking of what name she had called him. He searched for words that would comfort her, but he knew none. He knew that whatever he said wouldn't help soothe her aching heart. He shook his head and went to sit beside her. He pulled his canteen out and handed it to.

She eyed it suspiciously before grabbing it and taking a swig. She felt the whiskey travel down to her stomach leaving a burning sensation behind. She took another swig before handing it back to Monroe. She watched as he too took a swig before putting it away. She eyed the canteen wistfully as he hid it from her sight. She didn't want to ask if he would allow her to have another swig, but she wanted to feel the burn one more time.

Bass had looked up to the sky gazing at the clouds that covered it. He knew that it was time for them to head back to camp. He pushed himself up and held out a hand for Charlie to take. He helped her up and then grabbed his gun, making his way towards camp. "Come on, I have to shoot something to bring back. I told your uncle that I was going to look for game."

Charlie stared at his retreating back. "Wait" she called to him. Bass stopped and turned slightly towards her. Charlie walked to him and took his hand in hers. She looked at the callouses that covered his hand. She looked from his hand and into his eyes. Her head moved towards his and she very gently placed a kiss upon his cheek. "Thank you" she whispered in his ear. She let go of his hand and made her way towards camp wondering what the hell had come over her.


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel watched as her daughter came back into the campsite. Charlie adorned a light blush that covered her cheeks and her eyes were concentrated on the ground. Monroe followed closely behind her carrying a rabbit and a look of bewilderment reached his eyes. Rachel stood from her perch and made her way over to Miles. "What do you make of that?" Rachel asked nodding her head in the direction of the returning duo.

Miles glanced at the two and shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing. They must have ran into each other or something."

Rachel continued to stare at the two. "No," she started, "look at them. Charlie is blushing and Monroe looks, I don't know, perplexed?"

"Rachel, it's hot outside and Charlie probably smarted off to Bass. I don't know why you're fretting."

"Fretting? Miles look at them! That's a blush from embarrassment, not from the heat. And she's looking at the ground!"

"Your point?"

"Charlie doesn't look at the ground when she walks, Miles, she holds her head up high."

Miles let out an exasperated sigh, "You're reading too much into this Rach."

"No, I am not. Either you find out what happened or I will. Guess who will be nicer." Rachel used a slight threat of a potential fight to try and persuade (manipulate) Miles into inquiring about the two suspicious people. Miles shot Rachel a look of aggravation before slowly leaving to talk to Bass.

Miles had first worried that something might have happened between the two when Charlie brought Bass back to Willoughby with her. He had warned Bass then not to do anything to her. Of course, he hadn't told this to Rachel so she didn't know that he had already taken care of the problem. Or, at least he thought he did.

Miles began to reevaluate the last five minutes. Charlie did have a blush that had crept up on her cheekbones, but that can easily be attributed to the heat. It was the fact that she was staring at the ground while walking back into camp that Miles really began to contemplate. Charlie is the most confidant woman, most confidant person (aside from Bass) that he ever knew. Even when he first met her did she refuse to look anywhere other than straight ahead when she walked. She held her self with pride, with dignity, and never looked down. Still, Miles just shoved this off to the fact that she might still be brooding over their earlier disagreement and to Jason's death. And the fact that Bass looked, according to Rachel, 'perplexed' is more than likely the cause of something sarcastic that Charlie had said. Nothing to worry about.

Miles stopped short in front of Bass and looked at the rabbit that was in the latter's hands. His eyes then met Bass'. "Rachel is…curious about what happened out there. It was odd that the two of you came back together" Nodding his head towards Charlie who was making her way over to Gene.

Bass stared at Miles amused at his question. "We ran into each other out there and came back together since we were both headed back to camp. What's odd about that?" Bass rebutted.

"Nothing" replied Miles while shaking his head. "Just, don't do anything stupid, okay?" He warned.

Bass smirked, "Now that will be the day." He slid past Miles and made his way over to the fire so he could skin the rabbit and cook it. He hoped that Miles couldn't see straight through him, for if things were to continue the way they were, there would be a strong possibility that he _would_ do something stupid, very stupid.

Charlie had made her way over to Gene and sat down beside him. "Hey grandpa" she greeted.

"Charlie." He returned. Gene looked at his granddaughter. She was beautiful, looked just like her mother, and her grandmother. She takes after both of her parents, but she took after Rachel more than he would have liked. He loved his daughter, but he had hoped that Charlie wouldn't gain some of the traits Rachel had.

"So, what's happened here since we've been away?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. The Patriots have been quiet, almost too quiet. That's really the only thing that's been a bit worrisome." Gene had heard about what had happened in Austin and was worried about his granddaughter. He didn't; however, know how to bring that conversation up, so he let his reply stay there and wait for her to talk.

"What about my men and the clansmen? Have they been okay?"

Gene nodded, "Yeah. Scanlon and his men made a couple of raids, but that's it. Everyone is okay." Gene had shuddered at the thought of the raids. A part of him knew that it was necessary, those cadets were dangerous weapons. But still, he knew those cadets. He helped deliver almost all of them and it made him sick to know that this is happening.

Charlie just curtly nodded her head in reply and closed her eyes. She felt exhausted and all she wanted to do was sleep.

Gene saw that his granddaughter was exhausted and a small sigh escaped his lips. "Charlie, if you need to talk, I'm here with an ear to listen." Gene wanted Charlie to know that he supported her and that he was there for her. He doesn't like how she can easily kill somebody without a second thought, but he knew better than to think that her killing Jason was easy.

"Thanks grandpa," Charlie replied, "I'll keep that in mind."

The dark covered the campsite like a blanket. Charlie, Miles, Rachel, Gene, Monroe, Connor, and Scanlon were sitting around the glowing fire finishing their dinner. Charlie looked felt a pair of eyes on her and looked up. She saw that her mom and grandpa were laughing about something one or the other had said, Miles was concentrated on his food, and Monroe and Connor were discussing something secretly. She looked towards Scanlon and found him staring her down, stripping her with his eyes. She felt a chill run down her spine as she looked away. That disgusting bastard! She had half a mind to walk over and gut him. She looked down at her food, she never used to be this way. She didn't used to think about killing another man like it was natural. She yawned and decided that she needed to go to sleep. She got up, said her goodbyes and made a beeline to her tent.

Bass watched as Charlie retreated from the fire still confused about their last moment together. He figured that he would wait until tomorrow to find out what that was all about. He heard movement to his left and saw Scanlon nod his head to him. Bass nodded back and watched Scanlon head for his tent. Except, Scanlon didn't go to _his_ tent. Bass saw red as watched Scanlon slip through the flaps of Charlie's tent.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** Hello everyone! I want to first thank everyone for reading my story and thank you for your reviews, it means a lot to me! I want to apologize for all the mistakes that I have made in this story and I hope that you all will please excuse them!

I think that this will be the last chapter for today, I will see how I feel before starting another chapter. If this is the last chapter for today, then I want to let you all know that I will try to update as much as possible over the week. Unfortunately it looks as though this is going to be a very busy week for me and I may not have the luxury of writing like I have done over this weekend. Even so, I hope that you all will bear with me and I will do my best to keep everyone happy!

Again, I very much appreciate everyone who has been reading this story of mine as well as the reviews that I have gotten – Thank You!

P.S. – I would not be opposed if you all left me more reviews!

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Charlie went in her tent, determined to get a good night's rest. She took off her belt and laid it to the side along with her jacket. She looked down at her bedroll with a loopy grin before settling inside of it. As soon as she had gotten comfortable, Charlie leaned over and blew out her candle. She was almost asleep when she heard a rustling noise. Exhausted, and not as alarmed as she should have been, Charlie let out a muffled "go away" before turning back over.

Unfortunately, the intruder did not take heed to the sleepy girl's threat. He slipped inside of her tent and stared down at her. Slowly, he eased his way down so that he could try and make out her face better. His hand reached out to touch her, but he quickly drew it back deciding against it, for the moment. Instead, he decided to lie on his side, stretching out beside the sleeping girl. Then, and only then did he reach for her hair to slide a strand of hair behind her ear.

Charlie woke with a start at the feel of someone brushing her hair out of her face. She kneed the intruder in the gut before reaching for her sword. Her hand did not grasp her sword like she wanted for the intruder had grabbed her hand and wrestled her back to the ground. Charlie did what she could to try and fight him off, but when she realized that she couldn't get the proper leverage to push him off she opened her mouth to scream. Seeing her mouth open, the intruder took both of her wrists into his hand and used his other muffle her screams. Charlie heard the man shush her and try to calm her down.

Charlie couldn't see the man for it was too dark and his shadow wasn't helping matters, but she did recognize that voice. Her mind raced to rack every crevice searching for a face that matched it. And then, like a ton of bricks, it hit her. That disgusting voice belonged to Scanlon. Unnerved, Charlie put her all into trying to throw him off of her, but it was no use. Scanlon had used all of his body weight to pin her down and she was positioned so that any hope of gaining leverage was hopeless. She silently prayed that someone would come in her tent to find and rescue her.

Bass watched as Scanlon entered Charlie's tent. He was beyond pissed and abruptly rose to handle the situation. Of course it was fate's design that every damned person between him and Charlie's tent stopped him for something. He pushed them out of his way, struggling to get to Charlie and kill Scanlon.

Bass had seen the looks that Scanlon would give Charlie. He never wanted to waste a minute to think about it because he really couldn't blame the guy. He had caught himself a multitude of times staring at Charlie for far too long. Not only could Bass not blame him, but he also liked the guy and didn't want to linger on the thought that Scanlon could be a pervert with an agenda. After all, Scanlon had quickly agreed to blindly follow Bass, earning Bass the start of a new militia.

Finally, after pushing through an ambush of people, Bass reached the tent. He pushed his way inside and the sight that he saw disgusted him. There was Charlie on the floor struggling to be released with Scanlon on top of her grinding his pelvis into her.

Scanlon had heard the tent flaps rustle as someone entered. He was enjoying himself too much to immediately look at who stood behind him. But eventually he turned his head towards the source of his disturbance. His face paled at the sight of an angry General Sebastian Monroe. He stopped moving and let go of Charlie, pushing himself away from her as he seemed not to be able to get away any faster. He watched a Monroe slowly walked towards him – murder in his eyes – one step at a time. "I can explain…" he started to explain, but paused as Monroe stopped in front of him. He watched in terror as Monroe moved to draw his sword. Scanlon never was able to account for his actions, because the moment that the sword was fully unsheathed, it found its new home in Scanlon.

Monroe pulled his sword out of the corpse and watched as the blood that had come out of Scanlon's mouth dribbled off his chin. He then turned to find Charlie staring trying to piece together the event of what just happened. Monroe dropped his sword and walked towards Charlie and kneeled in front of her so that they could be on eye level. His eyes scanned her body for any injuries, but found only scratches and bruises, nothing too severe to cause issues. Their eyes met after his analysis and he put a tender hand on her shoulder, "Are you okay?" After not answering, Bass tried again "Charlotte, are you okay?"

Charlie was brought back from her thoughts after hearing her formal name being used. She shook her head and allowed a single tear to escape. She watched as Monroe's hand reached up to her face and flinched. "It's only me Charlotte; I'm not going to hurt you." At hearing those words, Charlie relaxed and let him brush the tear from her face. She gave a small smile to her protector. She heard Bass sigh and watched as he moved to sit beside her. She shyly laid her head on Monroe's shoulder seeking and taking comfort in his warmth.

Bass tensed at the alien feeling of Charlie's head on his shoulder, but he soon relaxed into her touch. He felt his hand being embraced by Charlie's and looked down at their entwined hands. Now that he knew that Charlie was safe from harm, he allowed himself to recall earlier that day when she had thanked him in the forest. The question of why she had thanked him the way that she did kept swirling in his mind. It didn't make sense to him. As far as Bass knew, Charlotte Matheson despised him for being the reason of half her family's murder. Why would someone who had supposedly despised him thank him with such kindness and such conviction? He allowed this to conquer his mind until the only release would be for him to question Charlie. He squeezed her hand and asked the question, "Why?"

Charlie raised her head to look at Monroe. "Why what?"

"Earlier, why did you thank me the way that you did?"

Charlie pondered this herself, still unsure of the answer herself. Knowing that Bass was still waiting, Charlie brushed a thumb over his knuckles, "Because I was being sincere."

Bass considered this and concluded that he was satiated with her answer. He nodded and felt Charlie's head come back to his shoulder to rest. They stayed like that for at least an hour, Bass was even drifting asleep. He finally woke himself up enough to try and leave. He untangled his and Charlie's hands and gently laid her down on her bedroll. He grabbed his sword and moved to the tent flap when he heard her, "Stay, don't leave."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Hello my lovelies! Thank you for being _incredibly_ patient. I unfortunately was not able to deliver another chapter when I thought that I would be able to and I sincerely apologize for that. This last week has been stressful with all the projects that I had to complete and all of the presentations that I had to present. We are in the final stretch at my college so everything has been piling up and I wasn't able to find the time to work on this. With that said, I hope that you all enjoy this next chapter!

P.S. – I would like to thank Bodabot for your inquiry about the dead body still being in the tent. It was late at night when I had wrote the sixth chapter (which is usually when I write them…) and that thought never even crossed my mind. I would also like to thank everyone who has reviewed my fic so far and hope that there will be more! If you do review my fic, please ask me any questions about it! If there is something that needs to be included, I will make sure to do so and other questions I shall answer to the best of my ability. Please excuse all the messy grammatical errors I tend to make.

Thank you all _so_ much! Enjoy! :D

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Charlie woke with a start, her heart pounding and sweat soaking through her clothes, as memories of last night came rushing back. Charlie slowly reached out around her, searching for the warmth that had protected her for most of the night. When she came to the conclusion that Monroe was no longer there, Charlie slowly raised up to take in her surroundings which were, to her surprise, clean. There was no evidence of last night's…events. So, Charlie made the assumption that Monroe must have cleaned everything up while she had been asleep.

She stretched her arms above her head and stifled a yawn. She brought her hands down to her hair and let her fingers attempt to comb through the mess. She felt disgusting, not only because her hair was greasy and there was a layer of grime covering her body, but because she could still feel Scanlon's hands on her body. Charlie shivered and stood from her bedroll, grabbing some clean clothes, a towel and her sword, before making her way outside of her tent. Outside, the sun was just rising and she passed by some members of the war clan who were already up and making breakfast. She hesitantly nodded her head at them, not knowing what they knew about last night. When they nodded back, she felt both relief and dread wash over her; either they knew and understood the situation (relief) or they didn't know and she should be expecting that they will be angry about it (dread). Charlie passed them and made her way into the forest with her destination in mind. She was going to go back to the nearby stream to scrub the filth from her body as well as the memories of the last few days from her mind. She needed to forget about what happened with Jason and Scanlon. She had a war to fight and she didn't need distractions.

She made her way through the forest, a small smile gracing her lips at the sight of the stream. She stripped down to nothing and waded her way into the cool stream, sighing with content. She let all of her worries and troubles dissipate into the stream along with the dirt. No more, no more will she be controlled by things of the past. She was a Matheson for Pete's sake, she has to be strong and ready for anything. Determined to erase her past, Charlie sank to her knees allowing the water to reach places it had not been able to and then dipped her head into the water, scrubbing at her hair. She flipped her head back up and took in a deep breath. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" She heard a voice over her shoulder, instantly recognizing it to be Tom Neville's.

"Tom," she started, "what are you doing here…again?" She knew the answer of course, but considering her state of dress (or rather undress) and the surprise of his presence, it was the only thing that had popped into her mind.

"Let's not ask foolish questions." Tom snide.

Regaining her thoughts Charlie replied, "Fine, if you're going to kill me then please allow me to put my clothes on first. Allow me to have a little pride in my dying moments."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you Miss Matheson." Seeing Charlie's puzzled look he continued "Do not get me wrong, I _should_ kill you. But you and I have a common enemy and I cannot defeat them on my own, even if I was to successfully capture and hand over Monroe." He ignored Charlie's eye roll. "No, I need help. They're the ones who took my wife hostage and turned my son into a brainwashed zombie that led to his untimely death. I want revenge – need it - and in order to achieve my goal, I need assistance."

"Why ask me?"

"Because, you killed my son and you owe me this. Plus, I figured that you would be the only nut job that wouldn't attempt to kill right away." Neville reasoned.

Charlie considered this. "If, and only if, I decide to agree to your request, we have to come to some sort of agreement."

"Go on."

"If we give you our help, you cannot harm anybody including Monroe. This includes hiring and/or manipulating someone to do your dirty work for you."

"I can't promise that."

"Then no deal." Charlie concluded.

Frustration crept into the lines on Neville's face, "Would you like for me to kill you? It would be very easy."

"Sure, but then you definitely wouldn't receive any help, your life expectancy would become increasingly shorter, your revenge would more than likely not be completed, and your wife will die. Now, tell me, what kind of person would demolish their goals over the death of one girl?"

Tom, realizing the truth behind her words, gritted a "fine" through his teeth, agreeing to her proposition. "Good. Now turn around and let me get dressed. I've been in this water too long." Neville turned his back, allowing Charlie to rise out of the water and make her way towards her belongings. She quickly dried off with her towel and put her clothes back on. "Alright, let's go." Neville nodded and together they made their way towards camp.

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Monroe had not slept any. When Charlie had asked him to stay, Monroe had obeyed. He had turned himself around and went to sit beside her again. She had groggily smiled up at him before molding herself against his body, seeking comfort and warmth and protection from her demons. Charlie had quickly fell asleep and he didn't dare to move for fear of waking her up. His heart beat sped faster as he felt her squirming, her breasts pushing up against his calf, making herself comfortable. His thoughts instantly turned lustful and he fought to keep his feelings at bay. What a perverted old man he was turning out to be, he thought to himself.

Eventually, Charlie rolled off of him and he sighed in relief. He looked around and saw Scanlon's dead body still lying on the ground. He couldn't believe that he hadn't made an effort to remove the body beforehand. He stood up and went to Scanlon's body viciously staring at the corpse before muttering "bastard" and removing him from the tent and burying him – six feet under.

The next day, Monroe went to find Charlie to find out how she was feeling, but when he got to her tent she was gone. He left her tent, not thinking much about it (she could be hunting or anything really), and went to talk to the war clan. He knew that he had to inform them about their precious member. When he got to the clan, he asked for their attention. Intrigued, members of the clan began gathering around him. "Last night, Scanlon was killed for…inappropriate behavior. I don't know how loosely Duncan allowed you all to lead your lives, but acts such as rape will not be tolerated. That is all." He looked around at the eyes that were fixed on him, some were shocked, others were angry, most; however, were impassive. He just put it off to the fact that this was a war clan – people died – they were used to this.

Finished, Monroe went to find something to eat, but as he got closer to the fire pit he saw two outlines coming out of the tree line. He reached for his sword, but upon further inspection he could tell that one of them was Charlie and the other was…Tom Neville? "What the hell."


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** Busy, busy, busy! I have just survived dead week which means that next week is finals week – yippee. Anyways, I would like to thank you all _so_ much for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows – I very much appreciate it! As always, if anyone has any questions (or anything) please let me know. You all are amazing and thank you all for being so patient with me! Please continue to review, they're appreciated!

Again, thank you! I hope you all enjoy…

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He felt anger flare up within him. How could Charlie bring the man who wanted him dead, wanted her dead, into the camp? It made no sense to him. He walked towards them, making his way to meet them in the middle. When Monroe reached them, he watched as Charlie's hands rose in front of her, asking him to remain as calm as possible. He raised a quizzical brow, trying to grant her wish, but finding it a very hard task to do. "Monroe," he heard Charlie begin. He looked towards Neville and saw the asshole smirk. He cracked; he really was an impatient person and he really hated Neville. "What the hell do you think you're doing by bringing him here?" His words came out venomously clipped, demanding an answer from the blonde.

"He wants to help us. He wants revenge on the patriots. He wants -"

"He wants to help us? Charlie, the man doesn't want to help anyone but himself. You're bringing the enemy straight into our camp."

"Look, I feel as though I owe him, I -"

"You owe the bastard nothing." He, once again, cut her off. He was growing more frustrated by the second.

"You know as well as anybody that he can be useful to us. I don't trust him either, but I _do_ owe him and we _could_ use him." Charlie was trying to plead an unsuccessful case.

"No. I am not going to let him in and stab us in the back, literally." He turned his attention then to Neville, "Why are you doing this?"

"You heard the girl, I want revenge." Neville was itching to draw his gun and kill Monroe now. He's been planning to do so, of course not until after he uses Monroe and the band of misfits to obtain his revenge.

"Yeah, I heard. But you see, I don't believe that that is all you have in mind." Monroe watched as Neville raised a brow, "I don't trust you." Monroe listened as he heard footsteps approaching them. Time was running out and quick. He was going to kill Neville and be done with it. He let him go once; he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

Neville watched Monroe's face, looking for any sign of betrayal. He noticed him slowly reaching for his gun, so Neville did the same. The bastard wasn't going to pull a fast one on him. Just as he was about to pull his gun out Miles approached them.

"What the hell is going on here?" Miles' voice could be heard, breaking everyone's concentration on their…task.

The only reply came from Charlie who had been holding her breath. While she wasn't particularly fond of Jason's father, she really did feel as though she owed him something for murdering his son. If helping him extract revenge was what he now wished instead of her life, she was going to give it to him. "Miles, Tom wants to help us, he's seeking revenge against the Patriots."

Miles let out a snort. "Go home Tom. We tried to give you a chance once before, but you had ulterior motives of killing Bass. Now that you have motive for killing Charlie, I sure as hell am not letting you join our crusade."

"And if I refuse?" Neville challenged Miles.

"You're kidding, right? You're outnumbered. Unless you want to die, then I suggest you hightail it the fuck out of here."

"Miles, let him help. What could possibly go wrong?" Charlie asked.

Miles deadpanned. "I see, you want to be a comedian. You should have just said so and we would have helped you pursue your dreams instead of bringing you with us to fight."

"Look, I owe him" Charlie reasoned. She could hear herself repeating the same stupid thing over and over again. She had wanted to break free of her chains and get on with her life, be a Matheson again. But still, she felt as though she does owe Neville, especially since he wasn't able to take her life when she was willing.

"Charlie, I know you regret what happened to Jason, but it wasn't your fault. And you sure as hell don't owe this bastard anything. Think of everything he has done, you don't owe him anything." Charlie could hear the truth behind Mile's words, after all it was under Neville's command that her father dies and her brother was taken.

Neville had his eyes fixed on Miles, "The hell she doesn't. I want revenge and she is the sure guarantee that I will get that by getting me into this camp. I deserve this, I deserve rev-"

The sound of a gun shot rang throughout the camp. Everyone stared at Neville's dead body lying on the ground and then turned to stare at his killer. Monroe shrugged at the questioning stares he received. "What? I was tired of hearing him talk."

"So you killed him?" Charlie questioned, both angry and relieved.

"Yes, Charlotte, I did." Monroe stepped towards her, getting closer with each word he spoke, "I did it because I knew that he would eventually attempt killing me, killing _you_. And that's something that I will not risk."

Charlie could feel the heat rising to her face. Monroe was so close to her that she could feel his breath fan over her face. She stared deep into his blue eyes. Her eyes continued to take in his face; the crow's feet that rested at the corners of his eyes, the lines across his forehead, the skin that was brown from the sun and dirt, his nose which was flared due to his unhappy state, his beard which suited him perfectly, his kissable mouth…She heard Miles clear his throat. "Bass, help me bury the body and Charlie, go on back into camp and get lunch." Charlie nodded and took a step back from Monroe. She looked once more into Monroe's eyes finding an emotion in them that both scared and thrilled her. She smirked at the former General and made her way back into camp.


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